(Don't) Want to Hurt You
by WrenClayton
Summary: Sam and Dean have always been gentle in bed together, but at some point they both realize they've been wanting something rougher. A LOT rougher. Warnings: Rough sex (biting, spanking, hair pulling, neck grabbing, etc) and weecest (Sam is thirteen for the first part of the story).


They used such soft touches in the beginning. They would sneak into the same bed whenever Dad was out and take each other's clothes off and curl up together under the blankets. Dean would trail his fingertips almost cautiously over Sammy's body, an awestruck look on his face like he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch his little brother, like he was afraid he might lose the privilege at any moment. When Sam finally convinced Dean that it was okay to touch his cock and his ass and to kiss him and suck him off and push his face gently into the pillows and enter him from behind, Dean would only allow each act if they took it at a snail's pace. _"You're not even fourteen yet, Sam, I don't wanna hurt you... _" Everything was gentle and slow and sometimes when they made love Dean would start trembling and he'd and cup Sam's face and ask if it still felt good, if Sam really liked it.

And Sam did. He absolutely loved touching his brother. But he knew there was something missing, and there was something missing for Dean too, and it didn't surface until they'd been sleeping together for a year.

They'd been sparring all afternoon and they both went to bed covered in bruises, but it didn't stop them from climbing into the same bed. Sam was lying on top of Dean, kissing him, moaning as he humped his cock forward against his big brother's, when Dean grabbed his ass and gave it an affectionate squeeze. It wasn't a hard squeeze by any means, but Sam had taken a fall earlier that had landed him right on his tailbone, and he tensed in pain slightly at the pressure of Dean's hand. Dean stopped the instant he felt his little brother stiffen, eyes suddenly full of fear.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"Dean, for fuck's sake," Sam panted. "It's just a bruise from today. I'm fine."

Dean bit his lip and nodded, rubbing a hand over the back of Sam's neck. "It's just - "

"I know, I know, you don't want to hurt me. But guess what, Dean? You were beating me to a pulp earlier today and you were fine with it. _I _was fine with it." Sam pulled back and pouted when Dean tried to kiss him. "I'm not made out of glass, you're allowed to be rough."

Dean's face went pale like Sam had just suggested they line up a litter of puppies and shoot them, and he shook his head urgently. "No, Sammy, I don't want this to ever be rough. Sparring, thats - that's a separate thing. I never wanna hurt you in bed."

Sam let out a long sigh and his heart sunk a bit. He buried his face in Dean's neck. " ... I'd kinda like it if you did," he muttered.

He heard Dean swallow anxiously.

"Not _hurt _hurt me," Sam pressed on. "Nothing permanent, just... " He blushed a bit. "I wouldn't mind if you... pulled my hair or... or just grabbed me a little harder, you know, really pinned me down on the bed like you do when we're sparring." He didn't say that he'd like more than that, that he'd like some new bruises when this night was done.

Dean shuddered and squeezed Sam in his arms as if afraid he was about to disappear. "S-Sam, you don't understand - "

"Look, Dean, if you don't want to, then - " Sam tried to swallow his disappointment. " - then we don't have to. We can keep doing this, this is nice too."

"SamIwantto," Dean spilled out quickly. His trembling intensified. Sam pulled his face out of his brother's neck, scowling when Dean wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Then why don't you? We'd both like it."

"I... I don't just wanna grab you a little harder, Sam, I wanna... " Dean squirmed uncomfortably. "God, you're gonna hate me for this... "

"No, no, I won't." Sam gave his big brother a soothing kiss, and he felt Dean's trembling lessen. "I could never hate you, Dean. Tell me what you were gonna say."

Dean swallowed, seemed to steel himself, and murmured, " ... Sometimes I... think about hurting you, Sam. In bed. Since before we even started doing things together, since you were _twelve, _I just... I would look at you and think about... leaving bite marks on you. Scratches from my nails. Pulling your hair when you suck me off and grabbing your neck when I pin you down so I can fuck you... " Dean shuddered. "Oh god, I don't really want to hurt you, Sam, I promise, I want you to like this - "

"Dean." Sam grabbed his brother's chin and forced Dean to look up at him. "I _would _like that."

Dean shook his head. "No you wouldn't - "

"Let _me _decide that!" Sam frowned until Dean wilted. He thought about it for a moment, then leaned in and gave his brother a kiss that ended with a rough lip bite. "Please, Dean," he breathed through his teeth, listening to his brother moan. "Just try it. Fuck me rough like you want to."

Dean's hips bucked up against Sam at his words. Sam let go of Dean's lip, watching his brother pant up at him, eyes dilated with need.

"If you don't like it - " Dean began.

"I'll tell you to stop," Sam finished. "And Dean, you gotta promise me that if I _do _tell you to stop, you won't... won't just shut this whole thing down. That I can tell you to stop without throwing away my one chance to have this."

Dean swallowed and nodded, and asked hopefully, "You really want this?"

Sam groaned and pressed his lips against Dean's. "I _really _want this."

Dean reached down Sam's body and grabbed his ass _hard, _squeezing until Sam grunted in pain. Dean followed it up with a hard smack and Sam gasped and broke the kiss.

Dean panted up at him. "That okay?"

Sam's cock throbbed against Dean's, his face was flushed and the pink tip of his tongue was hanging just over his wet, soft lower lip. "D-do that again," he panted.

That was the turning point. It was like a dam had broken and suddenly Dean couldn't get enough of making Sam gasp and scream. Every night they spent in bed together after that would end with bruises and bite marks on both of them, mostly on Sam, peppering his ass and his chest and his neck and the insides of his thighs. Dean's libido seemed to skyrocket along with the roughness of their playing, and sometimes he would barge into the shower with Sam and slam him against the wall and fuck him hard and rough against the tiles until Sam was screaming and coming all over himself. Sometimes Sam would be reading and Dean would grab his hair and drag him yelping to the floor, force him onto his knees, open Sam's mouth with a rough hand and fuck Sam's throat until his little brother was choking and there were tears running down his cheeks. Other times Sam would be getting dressed in the morning and he'd be pulling up his pants and stop with a squeal when a belt snapped harshly across his ass, and Dean would make him bend over the bed and spread his legs and take lash after lash until Sammy's ass was sore and red, until Dean couldn't resist any more and he dropped the belt and buried himself in his little brother. Sam loved it, loved every harsh, stinging moment of it, and he would tell Dean so in those moments when his brother would still cup his face and ask if it was good, ask if Sam liked it, his words a little breathless with how hard he was thrusting.

They started stealing rope from the monster-hunting supplies after a while. Once they tried tying Sammy to the bed, neither of them could get enough of it. Dean would pull the ropes tight and straddle Sam and ride his cock hard, twisting Sammy's nipples until he thrashed against the ropes and screamed into the gag. Dean would kiss the ropeburn later, his kisses invariably becoming gentle nips which became bites which became Dean taking Sam to the floor and ripping his clothes off and humping against him until they both came wet and sticky on their bellies, because even just_ remembering _what he'd done to Sam earlier that day was enough to set him off.

Sometimes Dean was too rough and Sam would make a displeased grunt or shake his head and Dean would stop, kiss him, ask what needed to be fixed. For a moment things would be as calm as if they were having a normal conversation while Sam told Dean what was wrong, and then they would fix the problem and go right back to grabbing at each other and gasping and shouting.

For Sam's next birthday, Dean got him a plug. Sam was breathless as soon as he saw it, and they both agreed it had to be tried out immediately. Sam wore the plug almost constantly after that, whenever he could, walking around with it under his pants and going to diners like that and watching Dean stare hungrily at him across the table when he squirmed. When they got home, Dean would grab Sam and shove him face first over a table and yank his brother's pants down. He would pull the plug out and replace it with his cock, thrusting nice and easy into Sam's already wet hole because "You're my little slut, Sammy, wearing that plug all the time to keep yourself loose for me, you love your big brother's cock, don't you, love it sliding into your ass, I'll bet you want more of my come, you love being my come slut, ass always ready to take another load from me." Dean would growl this into Sam's ear while he fucked his little brother hard and fast, and Sam would squirm under him and shout against the hard table and choke slightly every time Dean rammed in to the hilt, pounding him deep inside until he was tender. When Dean finally came in him, snarling and sinking his teeth into Sam's skin and squeezing his little brother's throat with a warning hand, Sam would press his hips back against Dean and sob slightly because everything hurt and he loved it. And Dean would pull out and shove the plug back in, "Bottling my come up inside you, baby boy," and rake his fingernails down Sam's stomach and legs while he sucked his little brother off.

The gentle touches never went away, though. Sometimes at the end of the day they would both be exhausted and sore from a combination of training and fucking and they would just stagger into the shower together and let the warm water soothe their tired bodies, kissing gently in the steam. And Dean would turn Sam around and have him lean against the shower wall, and he'd drop to his knees and kiss Sam's rump and pull the plug out, moaning as he watched come pour out of his brother's pink, used hole, dribbling down his legs and onto the shower floor, "God, Sam, came in you so many times today... " And they'd wash off all the come and the sweat and the saliva and the few places where someone scratched too hard and drew a little blood, and then they'd get out of the shower and dry each other off. When they finally climbed into bed together, Dean would hold Sam just like he used to, gently, reverently, fingers trailing soft and light over his little brother's bruised skin, only Dean wouldn't tremble anymore and his anxiety was gone. Dean knew he was allowed to touch his little brother, and Sam would remind him of that with a kiss and a sleepy, "Love you, Dean," before they dozed off in each other's arms.


End file.
